In The Darkness
by 0074
Summary: Ruth, Harry, and the choices they have made. Missing scene from 9.8 so assume spoilers for the end of s9.


**Ruth, Harry, and the choices they have made. **

**Spoilers for the end of s9. **

**This was a partly written story, my take on a missing scene from the end of 9.8. I hadn't been able to work out how to finish it. Then I read a fic challenge (thanks Amy) which gave me a bit of inspiration.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

It was very late. So late that most of the city's residents were in bed. Ruth sat alone. Mist floating around her, swirling through the trees and stretching over the river. In the darkness the pavement was shining, drops of rain glistening like silver.

When she had left Thames House, she'd felt drained, but also restless, and needed somewhere quiet and peaceful to think. She had been sitting on the bench, alone, for almost an hour, mostly ignorant of the few party-goers who passed and glanced at her curiously.

Ruth was occupied with remembering. Remembering that she and Harry had never been together, not really, and when they'd parted because of the Cotterdam mess, the world had kept on turning. Perhaps it was as it should have been, for two people who were so committed to their cause, that they sacrificed the chance of having a life together. Harry was left to continue the fight for what was good and right, and Ruth went on to create a new, simpler life for herself in Cyprus. She only thought of her old life, and the people in it, at night time when everyone was sleeping. It was an effort, but it was how she survived. At night, she lived that life inside her head, and when morning came, she returned to reality.

It had been Ruth's decision to save Harry, and she didn't regret it. It had been her choice, and the only one she felt she could have made. So her world changed and she moved on without MI5, and without Harry. But then she returned to her old life, and all of a sudden, he was there. Somehow he was the still point of her world again, but it was a world that was so complicated by all the things they had seen and done, alone and together, that the only way she thought she could make sense of it, was to hold him at a distance. The events of today were perfect evidence of how complicated it was. Although Harry had come through it all and was safe, and she had spoken to him very briefly on the phone, their relationship was possibly more complicated than ever.

_It's over … What do you mean? … Lucas jumped … He jumped? Harry? … I thought he was going to shoot me, but he jumped instead … Harry … He said he was nothing, that he couldn't face going to prison again. I think he just, he just couldn't see past that … It's not your fault, Harry. You ... As if there weren't enough people here already. Special Branch have just arrived. They're going to love this. I have to go, Ruth._

Ruth knew now. After watching Harry leave to meet Lucas, she thought she finally understood how he felt. On the whole, he'd been patient with her. He'd protected her, and trusted her, much more than the others. And hidden away, she guessed he'd even had hope, despite himself, because he was powerless to stop the way he felt. It was like holding back a flood. Ruth acknowledged that now, because she felt it too, and today the flood had broken its banks. Whatever happened after this, she knew she couldn't go on pretending.

Feeling the cold mist on her face, Ruth closed her eyes and made believe that Harry was there with her. She rehearsed what she wanted to say to him.

* * *

By the time Harry left the DG's office, it was very late. He had received a right bollocking, just as he'd expected.

_How the hell did this happen? Not only did you allow an anarchist to infiltrate your team, and then let him go, you handed him a state secret on a silver platter! What the bloody hell did you think you were doing, Harry? _

Harry was sure that the DG's voice would have been heard on the street, if he hadn't been forced to temper it with the need for a modicum of secrecy. And for one of only a few times in his career, Harry didn't react. He made no attempt to defend his actions. He stood there and let the DG rant at him. Harry had known what he was doing when he relinquished Albany to Lucas, and why. He knew what it meant, but he had to live with himself. He'd made a choice, and it was the only one he could have made.

When he finally reached the grid, he found a lone junior officer manning the phones. It seemed everyone else had finished their paperwork and gone long ago. Now it was Harry's turn. Not to go home, but to work his way through all the official forms. At the DG's insistence, they were to be completed and on his desk by morning. No excuses. Harry was well aware that the urgency was in all likelihood due to the fact he probably wouldn't be allowed back into the building the next day.

He walked into his office, first switching on the desk lamp, then pouring a generous glass of whiskey. He downed it in one fell swoop, and poured another. Settling himself into his chair, he scrabbled around in the desk drawer, pulling out a packet of paracetamol. Harry swallowed two of the tablets with the full knowledge that it was not a good idea to mix medication and alcohol, but he was in need of relief. His head was pounding with the after effects of the thump Lucas had given him, and the DG's shouting had only made it worse.

Thinking about Lucas again, Harry suddenly felt sick to the stomach. He could barely comprehend it all. He'd saved Ruth, and for that he would be forever grateful. And then ... he'd thought he was driving to his death, but in the end, it was Lucas who was dead.

Harry sat in the semi-darkness and wrote a blow-by-blow description of what had happened: how he had discovered Lucas North was really John Bateman, and then chose to use Lucas to lure Vaughn out into the open; Ruth's abduction, and his decision to surrender Albany to rescue her; and his final confrontation with Lucas, on the roof. He tried to remain as objective as possible, but unusually for Harry, the report was emotional.

_Betrayal … a crushing disappointment … sacrificed eight years … unbelievably foolish … skilled and resourceful ... abducted in broad daylight ... had to trust instinct … willing to give up everything … fragile and desperate ... a devastating tragedy. _

After almost an hour, Harry's report was complete, and ready and waiting for the DG in a confidential file. Harry thought it was quite likely that his fate also lay sealed in the same file, but he had no regrets.

Harry walked down the corridor, and on his way to the exit, he made a decision. He wasn't going home, not yet. He was tired, but didn't think he would be able to sleep. Instead, he made his way toward the river, to walk in search of peace and quiet. Seeking solace.

* * *

Ruth heard movement and felt a shadow cast itself across the pavement in front of her. Opening her eyes she saw Harry standing a couple of feet away, slightly out of breath.

His coat was unbuttoned, his suit jacket damp from walking through the mist, and his tie was loose. Where he stood, half in darkness, half in light, Ruth could just see the trace of blood and the beginnings of a bruise beneath the small strips of plaster above his right eye.

"Ruth." His voice was almost a whisper.

"Harry."

They gazed at each other for a moment, and it was one of those moments when it seemed time stood still. Then it took just seconds for Harry to stride toward Ruth and pull her to her feet. They were silent. No words were needed. It was just the two of them, speaking with their eyes.

Harry lifted his hand to Ruth's face, touching her cheek softly, as though he couldn't believe that she was in front of him. Ruth reached up and placed her own hand over Harry's, interlocking her fingers with his. They were motionless, then gradually, their arms moved until they were holding each other tightly. Neither wanted to let go.

It wasn't complicated. It was perfectly simple.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :)  
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